


"Can you shut up?!"

by thescienceofsherlolly



Series: Sherlollicious [29]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Humor, John not so much, Molly thinks it's adorable, Sherlock asks his wife to marry him, Wisdom Teeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 07:21:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11352606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescienceofsherlolly/pseuds/thescienceofsherlolly
Summary: After having his wisdom teeth removed, Sherlock spontaneously proposes to Molly.





	"Can you shut up?!"

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MizJoely](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MizJoely/gifts).



> another prompt from @mizjoely over on tumblr ♥

“Mawwy me,” he pleaded with the Pretty Lady, desperately clinging to her coat; he wrestled with the sheets the Mean People had covered him with. He spotted the daisies sitting in the vase beside his bed, reaching for them in such a haste, the ornate glass smashed onto the ground.

“Sherlock…” she was laughing at him. Of course she was. Someone as beautiful as her was probably already taken, living in the country with a bunch of children. And a dog. Of course there was a dog. God, how Sherlock envied him. Nevertheless, the Pretty Lady had taken the flowers and was sniffing them happily, “if I’d known you’d become this romantic, I’d have had you get your wisdom teeth out years ago.”

The Mean People had said something earlier about the…thingie, whatever it was that had happened to him - he hadn’t really been listening, his attention focused on his gorgeous visitor. Every time she wiped at his chin, he felt a spark of attraction. One of the Mean People charged into the room, then, clipboard in hand as she chatted incessantly.

“I’m pleased to tell you, Mr. Holmes, you’re free to go. The surgery was a complete success. I’m sure you‘re eager to go home with your wife,” she grinned toothily at the Pretty Lady. The detective gawped at the, albeit quite nice if a little irritating, Mean Person and then to the Pretty Lady.

His eyes filled with tears as he whispered, “wife?”

The Pretty Lady nodded, taking his hand and running her other through his hair; she pressed her lips to his knuckles, “yeah. I’m yours, Sherlock. Your Molly.”

Molly. He knew she had a pretty name. Molly Holmes. Sounded right. He pulled her close, letting his tears flow freely. His wife – WIFE – chucked happily, gently dabbing at his eyes, murmuring into his hair all the while how much she loved him. Sherlock looked up sharply, gesturing madly at the corner of the room.

“John! John, c’mere…”

Up until now, the Angry Man - John, John! Mustn’t forget that, he hated his nickname - had been standing in the corner with a camcorder, a stupid grin on his face. He sighed, stepping closer, the camera still very much focused on his friend’s face.

“What’s-“ Sherlock’s hand shot up and gripped his shirt collar, tugging him down to his level. Strangled, John managed to choke out, “-wrong?”

“John, listen,” the consulting detective spoke irritatingly slowly, dragging out every word in a loud whisper, “I need…I need you to go to the thingie, that place,” he waved his hand around vaguely, his eyes unfocused, “you know. Go there and, and cancel the engagement ring I ordered for the pretty lady. My Molly. Here,” he patted the behind of the woman he still had a very firm grip on.

John blinked at him, “what? You expect me to run around London chasing after a sodding engagement ring because you forgot you’d already given one?”

“Can you shut up?” Sherlock said hastily, looking up into Molly’s lovely eye and smiling widely, “not forgot, dear. Never forgot. I love you,” he mumbled, burying his head into her coat once again, sobbing silently; with his free hand, he waved John away, “no time. Go! Go!”

John stared incredulously at his friend but left the Hospital, scratching his head as he wondered where to begin; he figured he’d start with where he bought the first one. Nothing. Several hours (and many, many jewellers) later, he returned unsuccessful to Baker Street…only to be told by the infuriating detective he’d fallen asleep before completing the online transaction.

“Before you hit me,” the almost fully cured Sherlock Holmes stated as John took a furious step towards him, “Molly’s pregnant.”

Well, he wasn’t going to hit the excited prat after such an announcement. He’d give it a few days.


End file.
